


She Talks to Angels

by balneology3



Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: Because my mind is a dick, F/M, One Shot, also i have a rescue kink, also i like prostitution, am i, im not going to heaven, makes me have stupid dreams, not the actual act just mentioning it, yay prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-23
Updated: 2014-05-23
Packaged: 2018-01-26 04:48:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1675271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/balneology3/pseuds/balneology3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When an American tourists receives crushing news, who will be there to help her?</p>
            </blockquote>





	She Talks to Angels

**Author's Note:**

> A series of dreams led me to write this. The title is from the The Black Crowes song, "She Talks to Angels". I've had it written for a while and finally got around to posting it. It is waaayyy to cheesy and completely implausible. Also, judging by my other works, it would seem I have a weird obsession with prostitution/non-con. Yes, I'm also aware this is not normal. So read, enjoy- or not- and I'll see you all in therapy.

He opened the door to the small café, ducking into the dim lighting. Stepping up to the counter, he ordered a cup of tea quietly so as to not draw attention to himself. While waiting for his cup, he sat down at a table in the corner and looked around.

A group of girls were sitting at the table closest to the door; each of them with a steaming cup of what he assumed was coffee in front of them. Except for one girl who had a tea bag dangling over the edge of her mug.

If he had not looked closely, he would have passed over her: she wore the same unimpressive tee shirt, leggings and converse that many girls wore. Her brown, straight hair was down with one side tucked behind her ear, the other side left to fall in front of her brown eyes.

On the surface she seemed to be a copy of her friends around her but as he watched her raise one hand and circle the rim of her cup with a long, honey finger, she aged before his eyes. She made attempts to act normal for her friends’ sakes, giving them a smile when they engaged her opinion but as soon as their attention was moved away, she let her face drop into worry and continuously checked her phone.

His own cup of tea was set down in front of him as the girl sipped on hers, obviously finding comfort in the warm beverage. She wrapped her hands around it, chewing on the inside of one cheek when her full, pink lips weren’t parting to allow her tea to pass through. Her shoulders were tense and she kept her eyes on the table or her phone at all times.

Her friends giggled and pointed out of the shop window, acting every bit of the teenagers that they seemed to be. But she continued to remain mentally separated from them. She must be older by at least three years, or so it seemed.

“Abbie, stop sulking. Drink your tea like the old woman we all know you are and smile.” The blonde headed girl next to her bumped her with her shoulder and the tea drinker- Abbie- smiled tightly. She took a drink of her cup and turned her head away to let her hair create a curtain between herself and her friend. As she did so, she caught his eye and paused.

Realizing that he was staring, he tilted his head politely and she quickly looked away, fidgeting in her seat. He should have felt rude for ogling but he only felt bad for getting caught; for some reason, this young woman had peaked his interest.

The sound of a phone going off made everyone turn to Abbie as she apologized and breathlessly answered the call. She dipped her head to mute her conversation but he could still see her face. Her fine eyebrows drew together and her lips tightened. The person on the other end continued to talk; only giving Abbie a few gaps to fill with questions that made her swallow hard as she asked them.

There was a pause as she lifted one shaking hand and wiped at the corner of her eyes and then she was saying her goodbyes. Her phone was set down stonily next to her cup. She stared at it with glazed eyes before she realized that her friends were looking at her expectantly.

Abbie composed her face as best as she could and brushed off their attempts to get her to tell them what was so obviously causing her grief. She assured them she was fine and then excused herself.

“Do you need me to come with you?” The blonde girl asked.

“No. Thank you but I would like to be alone. Just give me a minute.” She tried to smile but her lips crumpled under the effort to keep tears in. With no further objections, Abbie ducked her head and hurried towards the loo at the back of the shop.

As she passed him, he could hear her contained sobs and then the slap of her hand against the bathroom door a few feet from his table.

There was silence for a moment and then a muffled, “Damn it!” that came from inside the bathroom. More smothered screams followed, but they were unintelligible and only he seemed to hear them. It sounded as if the young woman was breaking right behind that wooden door.

Never had any sound physically pierced him the way her stifled wails did- as if his ribs were folding in on themselves and crushing both his heart and lungs between their rib heads.

Standing, he glanced at Abbie’s friends who had returned their attentions back to the scenery outside of the window. He scowled at their lack of concern but put them out of his mind and cautiously pushed open the bathroom door.

The sobs coming from within quieted and there was sniffling. “Please. I need to- just go away.”

He could see her curled up on the tiled floor in the corner of a stall, her head pressed into her drawn up knees. She was physically shaking, her body racking against the cubicle.

God knew why but he wasn’t going to leave her like this. The stall door creaked as he pushed against, concerned when he found it unlocked. He sat down beside her, and without thinking, he gathered her in his arms.

“I can’t handle it, anymore. It hurts so much.” Abbie just clung to this stranger’s jacket and sobbed into his neck.

“Ssshh. I know.” He petted her hair and rocked her back and forth. He honestly had no idea what made her hurt like this, but he comforted her all the same. And it seemed to work.

Abbie pulled back. “I’m so sorry,” she wiped at her face and shuffled back to her corner of the stall, embarrassed.

“Are you alright?” He too finally seemed to realize that following a young girl he didn’t know into a bathroom was definitely not socially acceptable.

“Honestly? No.” She took a deep breath, her chest stuttering under her shirt.

“Is there anything I can do?”

“I don’t think so.” Her voice was thin and tired- the voice of an old woman ready to throw the towel in and unplug the life support machine. It scared him.

“Hey,” he caught her chin and he momentarily lost what he was going to say when her soulful brown eyes met his. “Everything will turn out.”

Abbie scoffed but kept her face in his hand. “It doesn’t matter anymore. I refuse to go through this again.”

“And what exactly is ‘this’, if you don’t mind me asking.”

She sighed and dropped her head. “My sister just called me to say that my mother tried to OD on painkillers. This is the second time this has happened in the span of two years. I’m won’t- I _can’t_ \- do this again.”

“I’m so sorry. What are you going to do?” His main concern was that this woman may try to follow her mother’s path. And succeed.

“I’ll tell my friends that I have to go be with my family back in America and then disappear. I’m not going home. I’ve had enough of my mother’s selfishness and emotionally, I can’t do it.” Abbie rested her head against the stall wall, her body settling into a state of shock.

“What will you tell your family?”

Abbie shrugged, “They will assume I’ll finish out my vacation and then return home. I don’t care anymore.” Her arms flopped against the floor, her wrist turned out. It made her look like a washed up drug addict.

“Maybe you should think about this.” He frowned at her glassy eyes.

“I have. For a year, I’ve weighed all of my options if ever something like this should happen again. This just happens to be one that I didn’t think would come so soon.” Abbie’s eyelids fluttered as she moved her gaze from the fluorescent light above them to his face. “It isn’t ideal, but it’s what I’ve been given.”

She pushed herself up from the floor and held out her hand shyly. “Thank you for- well, walking into a ladies’ restroom and letting me cry on your shoulder. It was nice to meet you.”

He grasped her hand and it was so much smaller than he expected that it made him want to pull her back into his arms. “Wait. You don’t even know who I am.” He didn’t want her to leave without trading some form of information.

Abbie met his gaze steadily, “I know who you are. I may be American but I’m not culturally deprived. And in case you didn’t already know, I’m Abbie- just Abbie, now I guess.” She frowned and looked away. “Thank you again, Mr. Cumberbatch.”

Her hand slid from his and she made towards the exit. He didn’t try to stop her, still confused at being recognized and not outed. But just as she pulled open the door he found his voice.

“Let me give you a lift.” For some reason, he felt like he needed to be this young woman’s guide. He needed to father over her.

She seemed to hesitate but then nodded, “Alright.”

{*}

“If it isn’t too much trouble, just drop me off at my hotel.”

“Where will you go after that?” He really wasn’t comfortable with leaving her just yet.

“I’ll figure something out.”

They rode in silence as she tapped at her phone, her face becoming darker every mile. When her expression seemed to reach a breaking point, she tossed her phone against the seat between them. “Fuck!”

She buried her face in her hands. He leaned over slightly and could see that the phone’s screen showed what looked like a bank statement. The account that was open held a balance of zero dollars and zero cents.

“Abbie, I can help.” She raised her head and narrowed her eyes.

“Thanks, but no. I will not accept money or charity. You’ve worked for everything you have and so I will just have to do the same.” Of course she would be stubborn.

“How will you get a job? You’re a foreigner without any knowledge of the area or any of the things needed to get a proper job. No one will hire you.”

“I don’t think you understand.” She pressed her lips together as if this was difficult for her before angling herself towards him. “Do you find me moderately attractive?”

He studied her, trying to figure out her purpose. But then he actually looked at her, took in her almond shaped eyes, full lips, beauty mark above her mouth, and her tan skin. “Yes, I suppose.”

“Good, then other men will too.” Abbie looked away and wrapped her arms around herself, waiting for him to catch on.

“You plan on SELLING yourself?!” He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“No, I plan on selling my body. There is a difference.” Her voice was detached, as if she was trying to convince both of them of what she was saying.

He spluttered, “Abbie, no. You can’t possibly- “ The idea was making him physically ill.

“Look, do you think I really want to be a prostitute? I don’t. But like you said, no one will hire me. It isn’t as if it’s illegal and I’m aware of the consequences and risks. Luckily, some men are willing to pay more for a virgin.” She too seemed to be becoming sick, her face pale, and her voice shaky.

“Oh, God.” With that, he had her in his arms again, everything screaming inside of him to protect her.

“My life is so fucked up.” She cried softly into his neck.

He held her until the car came to a stop outside of a hotel. Abbie pulled back but didn’t meet his eyes. Before she could begin to gather her purse up, he cradled her face.

“Stay with me. Just for a night.” Somehow, he’d convince her to do something else. Anything else.

“I couldn’t. You’ve done enough for me already.” She was clearly torn.

“Please.” He looked hopefully into her eyes.

“Yes. I mean, just for one night.” She blushed in his hands and then hurried out of the cab.

Abbie was gone for a short time, coming back with a black suitcase that was decorated with an array of pins that gave an insight to who she was: there were sarcastic quips, nerdy math and science jokes, a few supporting homosexuality, and one that said _I Masturbate. Do You?_

“In answer to your question, yes.” He said as she slid back into the car. She frowned in confusion and then blushed furiously when he pointed to the last pin on her suitcase.

“I forgot I had that on there. I only just got the guts to buy it a few months ago.” She fiddled with the pin and then met his gaze. “Thank you. Truly.”

He smiled softly

{*}

He had a small flat in the middle of London, one he frequented whenever he could. It was a quaint sort of living space and one of the few he felt most at home in.

Abbie stood awkwardly in the foyer as he put down his keys. He gestured towards the plush, leather couch.

“Please, sit down. You may place your bag in the bedroom down the hall. That will be your room for the night and I will take the couch.” She opened her mouth as if to argue but he beat her to it. “I insist.”

She nodded and made her way towards the hallway, looking around her curiously at the books on the shelves or the framed photos of family and friends. When she reached the bedroom, she stood outside the doorway, cautiously peering in.

Slowly, she entered into his private space, taking care to take up as little room as possible and perched on the bed as if she were on the verge of making a run for the door.

He watched her through the open doorway; watched as she bent down to take off her shoes and then curl herself up into a ball against his pillows. Her eyes remained opened but unseeing and her breathing slowed.

“Would you like some tea?” Maybe if he drew her out, he could begin leading her onto a different path than the one she had chosen in the cab.

“That would be wonderful. Thank you.” She sat up and rubbed her arms, one side of her hair slightly rumpled from his pillow.

When he turned away from the kettle, he found her sitting on the couch, studying her hands in her lap. He sat down beside her as the water heated up.

“You have questions.” She didn’t look up to see him nod. “Well, I owe you answers, I suppose.” Abbie sighed and rubbed her forehead. “Go on, then. Ask me everything your little heart desires.”

Her attempt at sarcasm would have succeeded if she didn’t sound so tired.

“Abbie, you don’t owe me anything. And if you don’t want to talk about it, I will respect that.”

Finally, she looked at him. “Of course I owe you. You may see this as the right thing to do,” she gestured to her presence in his flat, “but I see it as a favor. And a favor is just a nicer word for a debt. That is what I’ve been taught.”

He had nothing to say to that, too dumbfounded to hear this young girl speak like a seasoned veteran of life.

“I don’t plan on being indebted to anyone so I will give you answers. I don’t know how much good they will do you, but if you want them, you can have them.”

Those words shouldn’t have sounded as desperate as they did, like she wanted him to ask. Wanted him to dig out her insides and inspect every single thought, feeling, reaction until he was satisfied. But that was exactly how they sounded to his ears.

Before he could respond, the kettle whistled and Abbie broke her intense gaze, looking back at her hands.

He stood, went to the small kitchen, and began preparing two mugs. He had no idea how she took hers and couldn’t seem to find his voice to ask, his mind still hung up on that pleading look in Abbie’s eyes that she had tried to hide. So he made them both the way he liked it and placed hers beside her on the coffee table.

“Thank you.” She spoke quietly, timid after she had practically propositioned baring her soul.

He returned to his seat with his own cup. “I won’t deny that I have questions and that I would like answers. But I also want to ask something else of you.”

Clearing his throat, he placed a hand on Abbie’s knee. “I want you to think long and hard- to reconsider- the choices you are intending to make. I beg of you to exhaust every other option before resorting to…” He couldn’t finish his sentence; just let it hang between them.

He searched her eyes and saw how much she wanted to agree and take back the mere thought of possibly selling herself. But then she shook her head sadly.

“I will think about it. That’s all I can promise.”

He nodded, accepting that it was the best he would get.

“I’m sorry.” Abbie laid her hand on his, still on her knee, for a moment before removing it. There were many apologies hidden beneath those two words as if she was asking forgiveness for the past, present, and future.

He too removed his hand. “Drink your tea or it will be cold soon.”

{*}

The couch had just been made up when he heard the sounds of quiet sniffles. Abbie had retired to his room and he had assumed she was asleep. Obviously, that wasn’t the case.

But when he peaked into his bedroom, the girl was curled up, eyes closed. He called her name but she didn’t stir. And yet she whimpered.

He found himself climbing into his bed without hesitation, gently lifting Abbie to slide an arm underneath her neck to cradle her against him.

In the dim light, he saw her eyebrows drawn together in distress only to relax back into undisturbed sleep. Her cheeks were indeed wet, but no more tears seemed to form under her closed lashes and she quieted the longer he was there.

Bloody hell, she looked so young when she slept. Her face betrayed nothing of the woman that the rest of her body and mind boasted. Even as the quilt covering her outlined her small waist and hourglass shape, her unblemished skin held small, almost translucent freckles that smattered across her nose and cheekbones. Her long fingers wound themselves into his thin tee shirt, seeking comfort.

Abbie confused him. She could hardly be called a child, for she spoke and thought as someone twice her age. But she still held the brashness of a new adult, whether from the need to finally be rebellious and get away with it or from inexperience, he didn’t know. Maybe that was just who she was; someone who found some way to be self sufficient and self reliable no matter how that happened.

So why was she clinging to him as if he was a life preserver? And why was he letting her?

{*}

He woke with a small jolt, momentarily confused as to why someone was in his bed. Propping himself up with one elbow, he leaned over slightly to see who it was that he had been spooning.

Brown hair obscured cheeks rosy with sleep and supple lips that were parted slightly to breathe. Abbie.

He must have fallen asleep beside her. She no longer seemed plagued by some upsetting dream as she had previously been.

Feeling as if he had crossed some boundary by finding himself cuddling with a young woman who was probably almost two decades younger than him, he eased himself out of the bed. Of course, his conscience didn’t stop him from pausing to gently tuck her silky hair behind her ear before he left.

{*}

He was awoken again, this time by his phone ringing. The caller ID foretold that it was his publicist.

Groaning, he answered. “Hello?”

“Good morning! I just thought I would call and remind you that you have an interview in-,” She paused as if checking her watch. She probably was. “-half an hour.”

He groaned again. “What if I’m busy?” He didn’t want to just leave Abbie all alone for a few hours. That would definitely look like a dick move.

“Do you know how many times I’ve rescheduled this? If you don’t show up today, there’s no telling what this journalist will write about you!”

“Okay, okay.” He ran his fingers through his hair and swung his legs to the floor. “I’ll be there.”

He hung up his phone and padded into his bedroom softly. Spying what he was looking for, he scooped up Abbie’s phone and programmed his number into it and then sent himself a text to save her number.

After setting her phone back down on the bedside table, he tiptoed to his closet and pulled out a dark pair of jeans and a blue button up shirt.

He changed in the bathroom after he climbed out of the shower. There was nothing else to do but leave. As he reached for his keys, he hesitated. He didn’t want Abbie to wake up alone but he didn’t want her to wake her right now.

Settling on a text message, he sighed and walked out of his flat, his fingers flying over his phone.

_Abbie, I have unfortunately been called away for an interview. I’m terribly sorry if you wake up to an empty flat. If I had a choice, I would have canceled and stayed. I’ll be back in a few hours and during that time, my housekeeper, Lucille, may stop in. Have her make you something to eat if you’re hungry. And please don’t leave before I get back. Please._

_Ben_

{*}

The woman who was interviewing him was in the middle of yet another attempt at flirting when his phone rang.

He smiled apologetically and only just managed to keep his face schooled as he realized it was Lucille. Millions of worst case scenarios crowded his head, all centered on the girl he practically abandoned.

“Hello?” He knew it was rude to answer a call during an interview but there was no way he was going to not  pick up.

“Are you aware there is a young woman currently sleeping in your bed? Emphasis on the young. Is she yours?” Lucille sounded both disapproving and curious and even though she seemed to be whispering into her phone as to not wake up Abbie, the interviewer still managed to catch her words.

“Yes. No. I mean- she isn’t mine, she just spent the night. I mean, she needed a place to stay.” He physically turned himself in his chair, somewhat shielding the woman in the room from his conversation.

“Oh? That had better be all because she barely looks legal from this angle. Hopefully, the angle you had her last night was different.”

Oh, good God. “Lucille. Nothing happened. I slept on the couch so stop going mother bear on me.” He sighed, and rubbed his forehead. “Just leave her be until she wakes up. And don’t let her leave. Please.”

The older woman huffed. “Well, alright. But don’t expect me to keep my curiosity to myself.”

He smiled. “Oh, and be nice. For me.”

The call ended and he turned back around to face his interviewer who had her eyebrows drawn so far up, the almost disappeared in her hairline.

“Any comments about this new love interest? Is she anyone I may know?” She leaned forward, eager to uncover a new story.

He just cleared his throat and asked, “You were previously inquiring about  my experiences in theater, were you not?”

{*}

Abbie woke up wrapped in a smell she was becoming dangerously familiar with; one she began to associate with comfort. Which only made leaving it that much harder.

She groaned and buried her face in the pillow, inhaling. She vaguely remembered that smell stronger sometime during the night and the bed warmer.

Needing to breathe, Abbie rolled over and searched for her phone. She deleted any messages from family members but paused at the one labeled: _Benedict._

Opening it, she read the message, sighed, and then threw her legs over the side if the bed. She padded into the hallway, looking around for the housekeeper Ben had mentioned.

"Finally decided to wake up, did we dearie?"

Abbie jumped, one hand pressed to her chest. Puttering around the kitchen  was a short, stout woman with silver hair tied in a knot, flowered dress, and glasses placed at the tip of her nose.

"Yes. Um, you must be Lucille." Abbie leaned against the door frame, letting her hair fall in front of her face.

"And you are?"

"Abbie."

"How old are you, Abbie?" Lucille put one hand on her hip and peered at Abbie over her spectacles.

"Eighteen."

The older woman looked relieved. "Good. More than legal."

Abbie blushed. "No- I'm just- nothing happened between me and-"

"Yadayada. He spouted the same lines. Still, better safe than sorry. In case something does happen in the future."

"Oh, no. I'm not staying. In fact, I really should get going."

"Is that right? And where do you plan on going?"

"I..." Abbie tucked her hair behind her ear. "I'll figure something out."

Lucille sighed. "At least let me make you something to eat."

"I couldn't ask that of you, really. I'm not really hungry."

"Nonsense. Why don't you go take a shower while I put together some early lunch?"

It was posed as a question but Abbie knew she didn't have a choice. So she nodded and returned to the bedroom, gathered some things and locked herself in the bathroom.

{*}

"You know, it's not often I get to make a meal for any of Ben's lady friends. Or any friends, for that matter." Lucille took a sip of her tea, frowning to the side. "He is quite lonely, I think. But he likes you. I think you should stay a little longer."

Abbie colored from being called a 'lady friend' and then being spoken of as if she had been discussed by this woman and her employer.

"He's already been too kind. I couldn't-"

Lucille cut her off. "Stay, dear. It would be good for him to have someone to take care of, even for a few days. And as I've said, you have seemed to have caught his eye. Why is that?"

Shrugging, Abbie trailed her finger across the rim of her own cup of tea. "I honestly have no idea. We met in a café, after I had received news that my mother tried to overdose on pain medication again. He followed me into the bathroom and basically let me cry my eyes out on his shoulder. He convinced me to let him give me a ride to my hotel, then he convinced me to stay the night." She shrugged again, "So, here I am."

Lucille knew there was something else Abbie wasn't telling her, but she let it go. Instead, she studied the girl. Her hair was drying in a slightly wavy drape but would no doubt end up straight, the color of burnt copper with eyes to match. She wore no makeup, her eyelashes darker even so, and brushed her lightly freckled cheeks when she blinked. Her cheeks and lips held a natural shade of pink, her lips plump but slightly wider than average. A beauty mark rested above her lip and others dotted her neck, a few disappearing under her v neck shirt.

There wasn't a question in Lucille's mind that Ben found her attractive, albeit a little young. That being said, he obviously didn't bring her home as a between the sheets companion, Abbie's youth being so apparent and the fact that Ben usually didn't bring home random women.

And Abbie herself didn't seem the type to follow a stranger home. So she must have known she was safe. That still didn't make Lucille happy.

"Abbie, dear. You do realize how dangerous going home with men you just met is, don't you?"

Abbie had to stop herself from saying, _If only you knew what my future held,_ choosing instead to say, "Of course. And the thought crossed my mind. But I knew who he was and- I don't know, I just felt safe. I mean, I don't trust very easily, but with Ben, there wasn't the usual fear when I meet someone new."

"And you find him attractive, yes?"

"Of course. But that didn't impair my judgment; I'm not some naive teenage girl who thinks the first man to show me kindness and interest is The One. I just needed a place to stay and I felt safe with him." Abbie shrugged and leaned on the elbow she had resting on the table. "Even he had turned out to be a psychopath, it wouldn't be like I would be missed."

"Surely you have someone who would have noticed your absence?"

"Oh, yeah. If my mom was allowed to go back home, she would have eventually realized that the house wasn't being cleaned or the laundry done, or meals being made." A bitter laugh escaped from her lips, "My brother wouldn't have anyone to wake him up for school, my father would lose his television game show partner. But my sister would be the one to raise the alarm if I hadn't already told her where I was. She is the only one who understands- if only a little."

"Goodness, child." Lucille could now grasp why Benedict had brought this girl home. But the look in Abbie's eyes told her that she refused to be pitied.

"My life isn't spectacular, but that just makes it easier to leave." Abbie finished her sandwich that Lucille had made and pushed back her chair. "If you will excuse me, I'd like to be alone for a while."

Lucille watched her disappear into Ben's room, the door closing behind her. She sighed and picked up her phone to check the time only to see that it had Ben on the line.

Putting it to her ear, she silently cursed the redial button. "Hello?"

"I heard everything. You must have accidentally called me back and I heard Abbie's voice, so I stayed on. I'm on my way home now." He sounded guilty as if he had been caught doing something horrible.

"Well, I can't say I'm sorry you got to hear what she said. It just saves her from having to repeat it."

"I guess so." Ben sighed, "Thank you for being there. And you're right- I think it will do me some good to think about someone other than myself."

Lucille smiled to herself as the call disconnected. She was pretty sure that Abbie would be staying longer than she anticipated if Ben had anything to say about it.

{*}

Abbie holed herself up in Ben's room, wrapped up in his dark blue duvet, phone and laptop being used.

She had applied and been accepted to Cambridge University and was currently in the process of officially enrolling herself. Sure, she was a little late but the counselors were more than sympathetic and understanding when she let slip that her mother tried to OD.

It wasn't exactly lying - she just moved the date of the incident back- but she had always been known to make the best out of the many horrible situations she was handed by life.

She was wrapping up a phone call with the financial aid advisor when she heard the front door open. Abbie felt tension she hadn't known was there release at the sound of a deep voice that was easily recognized.

There was a knock on the door, making her heart pick up speed. She quickly said her goodbyes to the man on the phone, thanking him once again for his help before calling out:

"You know you don't have to knock to enter your own bedroom."

The door open, and there he was. Ben smiled, relieved to see her well.

"Well, what if you were indecent?"

Abbie shrugged, her mood brightening at the sight of his slightly untidy dark hair that was gradually becoming lighter, especially at the roots.

"You would have gotten an eye full, I would have screamed, we would have both been embarrassed and would never be able to look each other in the eye again. Or maybe something less dramatic, who knows? Besides, it's not like you haven't seen a woman naked."

Benedict sat at the foot of the bed and looked around his room. "Not for a while."

"Why is that?" Abbie propped her elbow on her knee, setting her chin in her hand.

He honestly didn't know the answer. "I don't know. Why are you still virgin?"

The tips of Abbie's ears went pink. "Because I've never found anyone adequate of giving myself to. Not that it matters now."

Ben watched her bite her bottom lip in distress. "You can still change your mind-"

"Stop." She held up her hand. "Please. I don't want to talk about this right now."

He sighed, "Then what do you want to talk about."

Abbie shrugged, "I've just enrolled myself at Cambridge University. I have a few scholarships that should cover most of the cost and I refuse to not go to college so..." She shrugged again.

"But?" Ben could tell there was something bothering her.

"I don't feel like I belong in college."

"You think you should still be in high school?"

Abbie laughed bitterly, "Oh, no. More like a retirement home. I feel like I wouldn't know how to be some young, careless college student. For God's sake, I didn't even have the chance to a reckless high schooler. I didn't party, didn't drink, didn't make any of those stupid mistakes that seem to come along with those last four years of grade school. Instead, I worked, and I studied, and I had to be a mom, housekeeper, and food supplier for my family. I feel like I've lived more than eighteen years." Abbie rubbed her forehead, looking every bit as worn down as she implied. "I didn't get to choose the way I am. It was thrust upon me."

"You seem to be very independent. Most people like that trait in other people." Benedict himself admired how strong she appeared to be.

"Independent and prideful. That's me." Abbie gave him a wry smile, momentarily distracting him with her plush lips.

"Have you heard any news of your mother?"

The smile turned to a grimace. "She has been moved to a psychiatric facility; they have placed her on a seventy two hour suicide watch and then plan to keep her there until my father feels like he can have her at home." Her eyes became wet. "My poor dad. He has to be devastated; it nearly killed him the last time this happened. I -"

He reached over and brushed away the stray tear that escaped its pool but that small action seemed to open the flood gates.

Abbie tried to hide her face as the tears poured so he pulled her towards him. She tucked herself under his chin, her fingers twining themselves in his hair, tugging gently in distress.

"Why? Why are so nice to me? Can't you see it makes me break?" The questions were mumbled into his collarbone, soft lips and warm breath causing his pulse to jump slightly.

"I'm sorry, love. I can't help myself." He hadn't realized the use of the pet name until it was past his lips.

Abbie distanced herself, "You can't let me fall into your arms every time I start crying."

"Why not?"

"Because it makes it harder to leave."

"Then don't. Don't leave." Ben meant it more than he had previously thought. There was something about this girl that he wanted to have the opportunity to figure out. And that would take time.

Abbie shook her head, "You know I can't. You've already done so much. Too much; more than I deserve."

"How do you know you don't deserve it?"

That made her startle, staring intently at Ben with doe eyes. "It feels wrong to be treated like I'm helpless. It makes me knock down every single wall and defense mechanism and it makes me _feel._ And it hurts." She pressed her fist against her chest, cradling it with her other hand.

If this were another woman- one not quite so young- Benedict would show her how much she was worth. He would lay her down and worship her body like a goddess would be worshipped. He would make love to her gently, while telling her she was precious with his mouth and hands.

But Abbie was eighteen. And a virgin. And he didn't think she would take too kindly to him taking her to bed out of pity regardless of how ridiculously _amazing_ it would be.

Abbie sighed dejectedly. "I think I should go while it is still light outside."

She wiped her cheeks, and crawled off the bed. She knew he was going to object so she packed quickly. Luckily there wasn't much.

"At least stay for supper." Ben didn't think he could get her to stay another night. But this was sort of a compromise.

He saw her hesitate. "If it's too dark, I will have my driver give you a lift to anywhere you wish to go."

Abbie was finding it increasingly more difficult to say no. "Okay. I don't know when I'll get my next meal anyways." She pursed her lips, both unhappy and relieved that she had agreed to stay longer.

It was going to be one hell of a time leaving- both emotionally and physically.

{*}

Lucille had gone home, feeling the need to leave Ben and Abbie alone and because Ben had assured her that he would prepare their meal.

And so, Abbie found herself alone in the kitchen with Benedict, watching as he began preparing pasta.

Not wanting to feel useless, Abbie began washing vegetables for a salad. As she ran the head of lettuce under the water, she unconsciously started humming.

Ben cocked his head to listen to her, trying to identify what she was singing.

“What are you humming?”

Abbie quieted and blushed, “Just a song that used to remind me of my mother. Lately, it seems to remind me more of myself.”

“Will you sing it for me?” He didn’t look up from the pot on the stove, knowing eye contact would only intimidate her further.

She was silent long enough, Ben thought she would refuse. But she cleared her throat softly:

_“She never mentions the word addiction_  
In certain company   
Yes, she'll tell you she's an orphan   
After you meet her family   
  
She paints her eyes as black as night now   
Pulls those shades down tight   
Yeah she gives a smile when the pain comes   
The pain gonna make everything alright   
  
Says she talks to angels   
They call her out by her name   
Oh yeah, she talks to angels   
Says they call her out by her name   
  
She keeps a lock of hair in her pocket   
She wears a cross around her neck   
Yes the hair is from a little boy   
And the cross from someone she has not met   
Not yet   
  
Says she talks to angels   
Says they all know her name   
Oh yeah, she talks to angels   
Says they call her out by her name   
  
She don't know no lover   
None that I ever seen   
And to her that ain't nothing   
But to me it means, means everything   
  
She paints her eyes as black as night now   
She pulls those shades down tight   
Oh yeah there's a smile when the pain comes   
The pain gonna make everything alright   
Alright yeah   
  
She talks to angels   
Says they call her out by her name   
Oh yeah, yeah angels   
Call her out by her name   
Oh, oh, oh angels   
They call her out by her name   
Oh, she talks to angels   
They call her out,   
Yeah, yeah call her out   
Don't you know that they call her out   
By her name”

The kitchen was quiet after Abbie stopped singing. Ben was thinking about the lyrics and how well they fit to this young woman in front of his sink. Abbie was lost in her own thoughts about her mother.

“You have a lovely voice. And that song is fitting.” He still couldn’t get past the lyrics of the bridge: “ _…she don’t know no lover…”_

“Thank you.” Abbie colored again.

{*}

Ben watched her twirl her pasta around the plate. He could tell she was preoccupied with thinking about what was going on an ocean away.

“Tell me more about yourself.”

Abbie looked up and frowned, “What do you want to know?”

He shrugged, “I don’t know. Anything.” He almost added _everything_ but stopped himself in time.

“Well, I graduated high school, second in my class; I plan on becoming a biologist; I want to travel the world. Other than that, I guess I’m the same as any other girl.”

“Do you honestly think you are like all the other girls your age?”

She sighed and dropped her eyes. “No. Sometimes, it’s easier to pretend though.”

“What and pretend to be some airheaded, boy crazy, shallow teenager? That hardly suits you.” Ben hadn’t said it cruelly, but just light enough to make Abbie huff a laugh.

“I’ve always been told I am older than all of my friends. It’s just that I had to figure out who I was earlier than everyone else. I know myself and what I can do; I know what I want and what makes me happy. I try to do what’s right and not be selfish. That’s just who I am”

Abbie met his eyes for a brief moment, slightly unnerved by her words, before ducking her head again and allowing her hair to fall in front of her.

Reaching over, Ben brushed her hair back and lifted her chin He searched her eyes and had to stop himself from leaning closer than he already was. Swallowing, his gaze flickered to her lips.

“Stay. One more night.”

Abbie almost shivered at how deep his voice went. Slowly, she drew away from his hand, shaking her head.

“No.”

She scooted back her chair and stood, taking her plate over to the sink.

“Why not?” He followed her, and leaned against the counter to block her path.

She remained with her back to him but he could see her hands holding onto the sink’s edge, her knuckles white.

“Because I have to find a place to live and work before school starts in the fall.”

“Stay here. With me; you can stay for free and you won’t have to lift a finger.”

She turned, her jaw tight. “And be treated as an invalid when I should be out trying to support myself? No thank you.”

“So what? Are you just going to throw yourself at the best offer you can find and hope it doesn’t scar you for the rest of your life? I refuse to let you do that.”

“This is my life, my body. I have the resources to make money and that is exactly what I plan to do.”

Ben wanted to scream at her; never had he met anyone so stubborn. Instead, he crowded her against the counter, done raising his voice.

“What you wish to sell should be given, not bought.” He had intended just to keep Abbie from walking away, but now that they were close, his hand found its way to her hip. “It should be offered, not taken. Cherished, not just another quick fuck.”

Abbie had to close her eyes against Ben’s intense gaze, the fire in his irises tempting her to give in.

She swallowed, and then breathlessly said, “My choice. I’m not staying.”

Ben stepped back as if she had slapped him. Abbie pushed herself off from where she had been pressed against the countertop and began towards the bedroom to get her bags.

He seemed to find his voice again as she reached the kitchen doorway. “Ten thousand.”

She turned around. “Excuse me?”

Benedict met her eyes steadily. “I’ll buy your virginity for ten thousand pounds.”

Her mouth might have fallen open if it hadn’t tensed in anger.

“No.”

“Fifteen.”

Abbie’s face tightened further.

“Twenty. Fifty. One hundred. Name your price and I’ll pay it.” He felt as if he was grasping for straws. “I’ll be gentle, I promise. Just let me do this so that I know you won’t get hurt.”

She dropped her gaze and when she looked back up, there were tears in her eyes.

“No,” she whispered.

It hurt to watch her.

“Why can’t you let me do this? You owe me a reason.” Ben couldn’t keep his voice level.

Abbie’s chest stuttered when she drew in a breath. “Because I’d feel everything; every touch, every kiss, nothing will go unfelt. I can’t experience that and then go out and have emotionless, detached sex. With you, I would only have you once, and only because you offered out of pity. It would make leaving so much harder.”

Her eyes had closed when the hot tears began pushing past her lower lashes.

Ben had slowly approached her until he was standing a hair breadth away.

“Then don’t. Don’t leave.” Without thinking he lowered his lips to hers. “And this isn’t out of pity.”

Neither was sure which one gasped when they connected, but it could have been them both.

Abbie didn’t respond at first, until Ben opened his mouth and caught her bottom lip. Slowly, she melted into him until she was sure he wasn’t going to pull away. After that, she let herself be pushed against the wall, snaking her arms up around Ben’s neck and twining her fingers in the hair at the base of his neck.

As her grasp tightened, Benedict made a trail of kisses over her jaw and down to her collarbone, goose bumps forming when he felt her fingers tug at his hair.

Abbie let her head fall back against the wall, breathing heavily through her previously occupied mouth. Her heart hammered in her breasts and spiked as warm hands found their way under her shirt.

Turning her head, she pressed her swollen lips to Ben’s ear. “This is me offering; giving what should not be bought or taken.”

Ben pulled back and touched their foreheads together. “And this is me cherishing.”

He kept their eyes locked as he gently lifted her t shirt, only losing sight of her eyes when he pulled it over her head.

Abbie’s breath came fast, the movements emphasizing her ample chest. The soft flesh mounded above her lacy bra, beauty marks smattering down into her cleavage.

But instead of delving into them like he wanted, Ben returned back to her lips, brushing the back of his hands down her torso. He let his fingers slip under cloth just briefly before tracing Abbie’s curves once more.

It was too much; she had never been kissed- let alone undressed- by a man, and she felt her knees start to buckle. She tightened her hold on Ben but only managed to hold herself up for a second more before she fell limp.

Ben caught her, cradling her in his arms as he scooped her up bridal style and carried her to his bedroom.

“I’ve got you. Everything is all right,” he soothed, placing her gently on the bed and brushing her hair across the pillow.

Abbie’s eyes began to clear and she pulled at his hand, tugging him closer. She was steady enough to prop herself up long enough to meet his mouth, but once his tongue licked past her lips, she fell back again.

He followed and settled himself by her side, lips never leaving hers and hands seeking out her exposed flesh. She mewled beneath him, her skin rising with goose bumps.

Abbie’s hands shakily undid his shirt buttons and then she pressed her palms into his chest, feeling his heartbeat thump under the pale skin.

Her own heart was in her throat, pulsing against Benedict’s lips as they trailed across her neck. He mouthed across the mounds above her bra, feeling Abbie shudder beneath him.

Reaching under her, he gently undid the undergarment, freeing the most perfect breasts he had ever seen. Her nipples rose as the air caressed her skin, drawing attention to her rosebud colored areolas.

Ben didn’t hold himself back from catching one nipple between his lips, moaning in sync with Abbie when her hands tangled themselves in his hair.

“Fuck.”

He looked up at Abbie’s voice and took in her pink cheeks, swollen lips, and blown eyes. He had trouble controlling himself as he watched small curses and gasps escape from her pretty little mouth.

Returning to her body, Ben moved lower, his lips and tongue tasting the skin between her breasts and the waistband of her pants. Popping the button and sliding down the zipper, he helped Abbie shimmy her way out of the jeans.

A pair of pink, frilly underwear made Ben pause and serve as a reminder of how young Abbie was. He made eye contact with her while his hands grasped her hips.

“Are you sure you want this?”

Abbie’s eyes narrowed and she clenched her jaw as she jerkily pulled away. “Don’t patronize me, Ben. If you had any doubts, then you should have never undressed me.”

She was angry. She scrambled out of the bed in search of her discarded clothing.

“Abbie.” She ignored him. “Abbie.” Still nothing. “ABBIE!”

She snapped her head up, “What?!”

There she stood, rage and hurt flooding her face.

Not saying anything, Ben caught her arm and pulled her roughly back onto the bed and on top of him. He cupped her face and devoured her mouth, putting his soul into the kiss.

He drew back when he felt hot tears slip between their cheeks. “Sh.” Ben pushed back Abbie’s hair, and placed kisses on her eyelids.

Pressing his forehead against hers, he held the gaze of her brown eyes. “Will you let me make love to you?”

Abbie nodded gently, her tears continuing to slide down. She flexed her hands across his bare chest and swallowed.

Returning them to their original position, Benedict laid her down onto his pillows. He stroked her cheeks, drying the wetness there, and then let his hand travel downward. He felt her breath hitch against his mouth when his fingers brushed around her navel and slid under her panty line.

Asking for permission, Abbie granted it by slipping her own hands past his waistband. As he felt his trousers being undone, he rubbed his thumb down the slope of her hipbone, his heart rate jumping when he saw Abbie bite down on her bottom lip.

She pushed his pants past his narrow hips and grasped him between his legs. They both groaned at the heat found there and Ben rocked against her hand while he swooped down to capture her hot mouth again.

He had meant for this to be controlled, with only Abbie falling under the tides of pleasure. But the further the touched, the more he felt his composure slip.

Breaking from her mouth, he slid down her body, marveling at the goose bumps that rose under his breath the lower he went. When he reached the pink fabric, he nuzzled into it, mouthing at the dampness already there.

Abbie whimpered and he could tell she was attempting to keep her hips on the bed. Benedict reached under her and peeled her underwear off torturously slow. As he pulled them down her legs, he placed open mouth kisses along her thighs, knees, and calves. Her legs seemed to go on forever, and he would have been content just mapping them out for eternity if Abbie hadn’t desperately cried out his name.

“Hush, love.” Ben returned between her thighs. He ran his finger down the center of her, the wet heat already making his head spin.

“Please.” Abbie angled her pelvis down, signaling her need to be touched.

He ran his fingers through her neatly trimmed hair, letting his thumb brush against her clit. She gasped and her hips jerked.

Catching her gaze, he lowered her mouth and, ever so slowly, caught her clit between his lips. She groaned, and pressed her lips together to muffle the sound.

“I want to hear you, Abbie. Please,” Ben begged.

She cried out, not holding back this time. Her back arched as he let his pointer finger slip into her. As expected, she was incredibly tight, even around just one digit. Carefully, Benedict stretched her walls until he was able to slide in another finger, a third following.

Meanwhile, Abbie was slowly becoming a mess; sweat collected in her collarbone and curses fell out between gasps and moans.

Neither of them could handle much more so when Abbie made the gesture for Ben to claim her mouth again, he didn’t argue.

“I’m ready. Please, I don’t think I can wait.” Her voice dripped with desire as she untangled Ben’s legs from his briefs.

“Hold on. We have to go slow.” Benedict took deep breaths to circulate oxygen into his lust fogged brain. “I don’t want to rush this.”

Abbie calmed down and managed to stop pawing frantically at Ben’s body.

Nuzzling into Abbie’s neck, he lifted himself until he was poised above her. She let her legs fall open so he could settle between her thighs and she gripped his biceps.

He met her eyes and held them. “Are you ready?”

Abbie’s eyelids fluttered as she inhaled. Nodding, she clenched her hands.

“Just relax. I’ll be gentle.”

She let the tension drain out of her before caressing his high cheek bone and smiling softly. “I know.”

Never breaking eye contact, Ben positioned his hips. He guided himself to her entrance, pressing in gently. Abbie winced but encouraged him on. She lifted her legs and clasped them around Benedict’s back to open herself up more.

As soon as he felt the beginning of her warm, velvety heat, he had to clench his jaw in order to stop himself from slamming into Abbie. She whimpered beneath him, her stomach muscles jumping from the discomfort.

He began to slip farther in, barely putting any force behind his small thrusts. But despite his contained efforts, Abbie still pressed her lips together and closed her eyes against the prickle of tears.

“Abbie, love. Look at me. I want to see your eyes.” Ben brushed the back of his knuckles under her lashes to catch any runaway teardrops.

When her eyelids rose, he could clearly see the pain she was in. He couldn’t help but tense as guilt swept through him. She felt his doubt so she gripped her knees around him tighter. “No. Don’t stop.”

Benedict shook his head. “I can’t see you in pain.”

Cradling his face in her hands, she kept direct eye contact with him as she took a deep breath. Before Ben could begin pulling out, Abbie thrust her legs towards her, burying him all the way inside.

She cried out in pain and hid her face in his neck as she felt a small amount of blood trickle onto the sheets.

It took a moment to gather himself, but Ben cradled Abbie’s against him, feeling her warm breath slowly start to calm. “Sh. It’s over. I’m so sorry.”

He remained perfectly still as Abbie drew back. Her face was still wet with tears, but they had stopped falling. She lay back down among the pillows that smelt of the man above her. Abbie let her body adjust to her movements and found that after the discomfort came pleasure.

Ben knew the moment she no longer felt pain; her eyes widened innocently and her mouth fell open slightly.

Abbie gripped his biceps and pulled him closer, keeping her gaze locked with his as she brought their lips together. Her arms traveled up to his shoulders before her fingers buried themselves in Ben’s hair and her thighs tightened reflexively. Benedict felt a small gasp against his mouth and smiled.

Rising back up, he kept his lips connected to Abbie’s. Slowly, torturously slowly, he drew back his hips. Abbie clung to him, her breathing, and heart rate picking up speed.

“I don’t want gentle. I want you to fuck me.” She bit his bottom lip and pulled.

Those words and that mouth tore out a groan from Ben’s throat and he complied, rolling his hips.

“Yes,” Abbie gasped as he scraped his teeth across her bared neck, running his tongue over the flushed skin.

One hand supported Abbie’s back while she began to rock against him. She flexed around him and shuddered. Ben’s rhythm almost faltered when he felt her tighten, but he just held her closer and prayed he wouldn’t lose it too soon.

Abbie chanted his name into his mouth, her nails dragging down his back, sending goose bumps racing across his skin.

“Fuck, Abbie.” Ben moved one hand down to cup her ass, pulling it closer to him.

She groaned in response, speeding up her movements to a frantic pace. “Ben. Ben. BEN.”

Abbie shuddered and clung to him, her walls pulsing around him as she came. He continued to thrust into her, letting her fall back onto the bed and moving his mouth down to her breasts as he worked on finishing himself.

Abbie raised her hips up to meet him thrust for thrust though, and provided him with gasps and moans. She was still riding out the after effects of her first orgasm and seemed to be on the track to her second. She grabbed Benedict’s hands and twined their fingers together, encouraging him to hold her arms above her head and giving him a place to support himself as he drove into her.

“Yes, yes. Come on. God, yes.”

With one final snap of his hips, Ben caught Abbie’s mouth in a searing kiss as they both came. Abbie shuddered around him as he released deep within her.

The kiss slowly lost its desperation but none of the heat. It turned raw and possessive but so right. Ben pulled back first, needing to breathe but stayed between her thighs. He picked up a lock of her hair and twirled it around his finger.

Abbie smiled up at him and rubbed her thumb over their still clasped fingers. She rose up and kissed him lightly. “Thank you.”

He didn’t want to assume that she intended on staying the rest of the night but he couldn’t help the thrill that went through him when she only seemed to snuggle further into his pillows and his arms.

“Does this mean you’re staying?”

Abbie tried not to look too hopeful, “Yes. As long as you want me here.”

“How long does forever sound?”

As she laughed in delight, Ben didn’t think he had ever heard a more perfect sound.

{*}

Lucille unlocked the flat door quietly, already suspecting what she might find. Her suspicions were confirmed when she saw a trail of clothing from the kitchen to the bedroom.

Smiling to herself, she backed out of the flat, closing and locking the door on her way.

{*}

Benedict woke to the sound of a door shutting. He momentarily panicked, thinking Abbie had changed her mind about staying. But his fears were put to rest when he found the woman in question wrapped in his arms.

He couldn’t help but feel a spark of happiness run through him as he propped himself up to gaze down at a still sleeping Abbie. She looked perfectly content, even had a tiny smile that turned her lips up. Her head was resting in the crook of Ben’s elbow, one had pressed against his chest, the other draped across his hip. Her legs were tangled with his and as he shifted slightly, her leg rose higher up his thigh and she snuggled closer into his body.

Ben brushed a few stray hairs back onto the pillow and traced her features; he ran the pad of his thumb across her full bottom lip, let his fingers trail her jaw line, and ran the back of his hand across the apple of her cheek.

There was no way he could imagine waking up to an empty bed again. Abbie took up the space he hadn’t known was bare. If he were to find himself with his arms full of this young woman every morning for the rest of his life, he would never get out of bed.

He let his hand wander down to Abbie’s waist, farther down across the swell of her hip, and finally let it rest on her upper thigh. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to her soft, warm mouth.

She made a small sound as she woke, but it was quickly swallowed behind Ben’s lips. Abbie granted him entrance and smiled, still wrapped in sleep and warmth.

When she opened her eyes and drew back to fill her lungs with air, she gazed in awe at the sight before her; Ben was propped up on an elbow, his dark hair messy but haloed by the sun filtering in from the sheer-curtained window. His eyes glittered contently and took in her bare body as she stretched, letting the sheet gather around her hips.

She felt her breasts respond to the cool air but paid them no mind. Instead, she reached out and buried her fingers in Benedict’s hair and pulled him down to her mouth.

“Good morning.” She nipped at his lip and gave an appreciative sigh when he slotted the rest of his body over hers. She could feel him against her hipbone and desire pooled in her belly.

“Hm. Good morning.” His deep voice sent delicious chills down her spine and she smiled shyly as her hands hesitantly explored the pale expanse of Ben’s body.

“After what happened last night, you decide to be shy now?” Benedict chuckled, adoring the innocent blush that rose on Abbie’s cheeks.

“Well, you are the first man to…” She trailed off, embarrassed of her inexperience.

“To what? See you like this?” He tossed the sheet off their bodies. “Touch you like this?” He kneaded her breast before letting his hand trail down between her thighs. “Kiss you like this?” The kiss was raw, Ben pulling Abbie out of her insecure shell, leaving her panting, and himself wanting.

Abbie simply nodded, her gaze alternating between his darkened eyes and glistening lips.

“And would it be too terribly selfish of me if I said that I would like to be the first _and_ last man?” He hovered over her, his voice barely a whisper but still shudder worthy.

In response, Abbie reclaimed his mouth, giving herself over once again.

{*}

_A few months later_

“I’m telling you, if you would let me buy you an apartment nearby, we would both be satisfied.”

“Not a chance. It’s bad enough you convinced me to let you pay for my books.” Abbie set a box down on the dorm room bed.

“It isn’t my fault I’m so convincing.” Ben came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing her neck.

“No means no, Ben.” Abbie swatted at him good-naturedly, turning to face him.

“That’s not what you were saying earlier this morning.”

Huffing, Abbie rolled her eyes. “Only because there was a serious lack of clothing involved.”

“That can be arranged.” Ben nipped at her jaw line, drawing giggles from her.

“Good god, I thought I was supposed to be the sex driven college student, not you.”

Ben laughed, releasing her. “Okay, okay.” He turned serious. “I just want to spend as much time with you in my arms as possible.”

Abbie smiled softly at him, “I know. I wish you didn’t have to start filming Then you could hide out under my bed until classes are over.”

“Well, I wish you didn’t have to start college. Then, you could travel with me and wake up beside me every morning.”

She pouted. “Your scenario sounds infinitely better. But-“

“I know, love. This is something you want and need to do. I understand.’

Abbie just nodded, already feeling their separation. Fighting back the beginning of tears, she began opening boxes.

“Benedict Timothy Carlton! I told you not to buy this stupid teapot!”

Ben tried to keep the smile off his face. “No, you didn’t. You said you didn’t need it. I disagreed.”

Groaning, Abbie let herself be pulled into his arms. “You’re impossible. Everyone is going to think I’m your sugar baby if you don’t stop this nonsense.”

“I highly doubt they will reach that conclusion because of a mere teapot. And am I not technically your sugar daddy?” He smirked, knowing Abbie hated the title.

“No, you are not. Take the teapot back. Right now.”

“Or what?” Ben loved to see her get flustered like this. “What can I possibly do to convince you to keep it?” His hand slid underneath her shirt, following her waistband before popping the button on her jeans.

Shoving the box out of the way, Abbie bit back her laughter as she pulled Ben back towards the bed. “It is an awfully sensible thing to have around…”

He made a sound of agreement, climbing atop her and settling between her legs.

“And I do kind of love it…” She felt his chuckle as he nuzzled into her neck. “And I guess I kind of love you."

Ben stilled above her, only moving to look into her eyes. She was teasing, but he knew what she had said was true. 

Those three words hadn’t been said aloud, yet, here they were; spoken hours before they were to leave each other.

“Well, I love you more than just ‘kind of’.”

“That, I’m not so sure about.” Abbie smiled coyly but the kiss that followed spoke volumes. She was completely, and madly, in love.

And by the actions that followed, so was Ben.


End file.
